


False Cycle of Rebirth

by Kyu_Momo



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: AU, Angst, Dark, Gen, Horror, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:36:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2214324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyu_Momo/pseuds/Kyu_Momo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fomicry can be a horrible thing.  Jade knows this. He had it banned for a reason after all. But even the Father of Fomicry doesn't know the half of just HOW horrifying his creation really is...  A what-if AU snippet.  Two-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**False Cycle of Rebirth**

* * *

 

The mind he possessed was in pieces now... having been grabbed by rippling hands and pulled with ferocious effort until the seams snapped and the mind spilled forth. These billowing segments coiled, wove, and spun into smoky luminescent colors, flowing gently into folds as if in a breeze. Amongst these swirling colors yet another warmth called from somewhere beyond their grasp. 

Somewhere that wasn't where it should be.

Luke’s shattered pieces yearned to be whole and the ache of loss was all consuming; So long had they been encased in a false shell, that now that the horrors of Akzeriuth had torn them all free of their cage, they had finally realized that they were, indeed, incomplete and _wrong_. Luke’s false shell of flesh rearranged its body amongst the sheets of the bed, somehow avoiding the fuzzy blue body of the creature that slept there. The little blue animal wiped little paws across its cheeks in slumber, but did not rouse to wakefulness.

His cold body felt the call and followed the warmth, eager to reunite.

Colors blurred as the body moved. The Qliphoth loomed before its sightless eyes. The ache of yearning was so deep that tears spilled from desperation.  They _needed_ to be whole!

His body flung itself foreword with red light reflecting in green eyes as they rushed in a blur of free-fall to meet the warmth at its source.

The collision was pure ecstasy. That horrible feeling of emptiness faded as quickly as an eye blink when the missing piece snapped into place and all was finally righted.

The wholeness was pure red and glowing with warmth, a tidal wave of movement and sound and heartbeat. This warmth pushed out at the wrongness of the shell until it shattered, but this painful process didn't happen all at once. It was slow, almost excruciatingly so.  The body that had once known itself as Luke, pondered if this is what it felt like for a little chick-ling to push itself out of its egg in its first moments of life. A struggle if there ever was one.  

Luke's flesh pinched then cracked, slowly shedding glassy pieces and revealing the true creamy flesh beneath. It was a softer, paler tone than that of the false body.  Flowing hair of red pulsed with a wave that shimmered then splashed with new color, the true shade of black springing forth like an ocean wave from tips to roots, peeling the false red hair away in brilliant sparkles of light. A splash of droplets cascaded anew like the stark contrast of bright and stringy white lights splattering downward into black water.

His green pupils narrowed then contracted as a whirl of true color filtered out the false.  Brilliant scarlet eyes were born.

And then the memory of his past life played behind the mind’s eye. They were a blur of color and sight and sound and emotions, too many, too fast. Knowledge.  Sadness. Hope. Despair. Joy. Love. These emotions twirled and dove and snapped into place, one by one.

He could see himself in his memories, short black hair amongst friendly faces watching the events he had once lived unfold again so quickly. Faces that had once been unknown now became known and he matched names to faces with mirth or frowns.

"Luke" was actually _another_ person! A new, whole other person.  A soul.

He was never a “Luke” no, he was himself!

He had been ripped from his own world and forced into this one, shoved uncomfortably into a shell, the copy of another person’s form at that!

And he had just now regained what had been stolen from him. How he had done so came off as unimportant as it was lost in the moment of discovery. Such wonder...

The joy of freedom surfaced and he used innate and reflexive power to float up into the miasma-filled air. His flight left billowing streaks behind as he sailed up in a gravity-defying bubble of light. He sailed and sailed until he found the hole that led to the upper world, reaching the peak of height to gaze over the beautiful sea and bustling life before he effortlessly began gliding downward to land at the edge of a city.

The joy soon gave way to panic as he spotted the false shell was once again in place. 

No!  No it couldn't be... not after he had finally become free... The nameless being dug bloody furrows into the flesh of his arm, wailing in despair as more red liquid poured forth but the creamy pale skin of his  _true form_ did not reappear. He left the shredded, dripping skin attached, so filled with utter disgust that he didn't even register the physical pain. 

He couldn't handle this...

“No!  No!”  He cried, tears springing to his eyes.

Wind blew. Red hair billowed within reach of his eyesight and flailing hands clawed at it in disbelief.  No...  Where had it gone?!

Where had his natural hair color gone? This hair was long...  It was not supposed to be long!  He tugged at it in helpless frustration.

“So, that’s it? I’m trapped in this disgusting shell forever? Why!?”  His body sprang into motion, dribbling blood as he ran.  Mirror...  He was grasping at any shred of his old self, but he had to make sure. The decorative glass beams quickly came into view and helped him see what he had feared to.  His eyes were back to that emerald green. He clutched his not-true-face in horror. The wrongness was appalling and he felt sick with nausea.

Those faces from his real memory flashed before his eyes again. Their names came to the tip of his tongue.  He had been taken from them!  His friends, his enemies, his parents, his beloved, his _children_...! Those smiling faces... even the hateful ones...

No... No... He had to go back... somehow!  Back to his real world... But it didn't exist here.  He was _trapped_. He was alone.  He wasn't himself!

Suddenly something came to his attention.  It had been a niggling feeling before, a little tickle of something that made him think he was forgetting... something.

Yes... that was it.

Name... Name!

What was his name?!

Why could he remember their names but not his own?

Fomicry had twisted him. Ripped his very soul out and then carelessly slapped it into a human copy available because some fool wanted to play god and then had the bright idea to spread the word!

Flawed and evil...  He was going to be sick!

Humans were _not_ capable of making souls. So what if they could make a mirror of flesh? So what!  It all meant a fat lot of _nothing_ if there wasn't even any life to pour into it and make it full!

Fomicry had done the impossible.  It clenched a hand around a soul, a life from _another_ source and ripped it out, pulled across time and space before it squeezed it into a foreign fleshy cage to provide the missing piece to the equation.

He was now trapped in a fleshy cage that had been meant to die as a tool of mass murder... and then he was to be thrown away like a doll!  Not even viewed as human.

They had taken it all away.

He had taken everything from him.

Everything!

_Name..._

The tears would not stop. He couldn't endure this.  He had to go back! It was all so unfair.  Then the madness set in. 

The anger.

The hatred.

The _anguish._

_Name!_

**“Even my own name they took from me!”**

The bloodcurdling scream of rage and agony was deafening.


	2. Chaos Assured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Finally noticed that the last sentence had been eaten by the site or something. Fixed it by adding what was supposed to be there.
> 
> Sorry about that.

“No...!  No... Please... No... This is not happening...”

 

The agony... The physical and mental anguish finally overwhelmed the boy and, with one last pitiful choke, the Replica of Luke Fon Fabre crumbled to his knees and buried his face into the dark, streaming hair of the bloody, broken corpse he had just created.

Even amidst the boy’s heartbreaking sobs he was still aware enough of his surroundings that as my guards foolishly neared him with their weapons at the ready to strike; even then, the boy lifted his tear-streaked and torn face to glare at _me_ to hiss the warning of a predator on edge and almost out of control. Even now, the boy showed reluctance to kill those that seemed to have wronged him, or at least that’s how his and his friend’s actions and body language had all but screamed at me.

 

 _“Call off your dolls before I break them,”_ had been the replica’s hiss of both warning and his own separate war with himself. _“Call them off before I finish what she started!”_  His voice was thick but somehow I felt I heard a desperate undercurrent of “ _Please... I don’t want more blood on my hands, this day... Please be as wise a ruler as I have heard you to be.”_

 

 _Indeed_ , I mused, _after the prowess you and my would-be assassin have both displayed, you need not repeat yourself. I will respect that._

I called the unsuspecting men off with a hasty hand, and then with a stern voice when my frantic gestures proved for naught, “Stand down and leave us!”

My voice resounded in the large ruins of my audience chamber, coming out calm and steady as it echoed. However, I could not quite keep my voice steady when it became apparent that I needed to repeat myself, yet again, for my personnel’s continued breathing, “I said stand down. Leave us! Do it _now_!”

Finally they obeyed my order and I felt myself release the breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding.

 

There has already been enough tragedy this day, there needn’t be more...

 

The boy glared at me. I forced myself to meet his tormented gaze, and I did so without falter long enough that when the replica could no longer keep his eyes open through the onslaught of tears, that it was with relief that I broke away to look elsewhere. There was so much emotion in those eyes: revulsion, denial, rage, grief, horror, guilt, exhaustion, and _betrayal..._

 

I did not know the entirety of the situation yet, to be honest. As it was at the first years of my reign, and so it still remained; I preferred to listen to the accounts of the accused and victims both, before reaching a decision in something of such magnitude.

I was a leader first and foremost and I could not just throw my safety aside on a whim.  My nation and the lives of my subjects always came first, and therefore my safety remained paramount regardless of my feelings. Personal feelings were something that could only exist inside my bedroom when I was away from prying eyes, if this nation’s security was to continue on its steady course.

 

Was this the correct decision? During the horrific battle to keep me safe from her, apparently against the boy’s own instincts to boot, the back and forth of explosive dialogue had painted a terrifying picture.  I had only a collective of many pieces to the puzzle and had based my safety on _them_ , instead of the whole picture.  It had come down to watching more of my personal guard throw their lives away in the name of doing their job in what amounted to suicide, or to leave myself potentially vulnerable in the company of a deadly replica that had killed the other because, their hatred was not so strong as to interfere with their sense of right and wrong.

 

Still, I may be Emperor Peony Upala Malkuth IX, but when it comes down to it I am only human.

Whether my current decision was a mistake or not will be for the historians to decide at a later date.

I chose the latter and I knew that my friend, Jade Curtiss, or Colonel Curtiss of my nation’s Third Division when formality and politics were in play, would give me a talking to for it later; but try as I might, I could not bring myself to let them die needlessly for a conflict that a long conversation with me might be able to resolve.

I cautiously approached, being sure to make noise with my footwear for the benefit of the powerful boy tensing at each noise I made as I did so, and when I had gotten as close to him as I dared, I stopped moving and stood still.

 

“Thank you, Luke,” I murmured.

 

“That is _not_ my name and _don’t_ thank me.” The boy hadn’t even raised his voice, but I still felt myself flinch from the sheer power and fear that it instilled within me.  The boy still shook with the silent sobs of intense emotion as he choked out his clenched-through-teeth response, “Don’t you _dare_ thank me!”

 

Frankly, the eventual lecture from Jade was starting to seem like the greater threat in the room.  I knew this tightness in my chest was nothing more than pity, and yet I couldn’t quite get a handle on the other emotions brimming within me.  I needed more information, instead of relying on my assumptions.  Snippets of that frantic clash echoed within my mind yet again and I felt the pained reactions of the body that pushed me out of harm’s way time and again...

 

 

_"Why do you still protect him, Nyx? Why?  You, who have been wronged the **most**!"_

 

The boy groaned as a deadly strike hit home and his flesh was rent. I fought to keep myself still as I felt his warm blood splash across my face, clothes, and neck.

 

_"You think I don’t wish I could hate him?! I’ve tried!  I’ve tried to hate him! I’ve tried to hate them all! But I don’t.... Still...Even still I don’t want him dead. Not like this..."_

Even in my terror as these deadly forces raged and destroyed all in their path and surroundings, I could still feel the sheer agony in his voice as he wielded his blinding power to push his friend back.  

 

_"I will not just stand aside and watch you kill all of these innocent people, let alone our “creator” in cold blood! I don’t care if that makes me a hypocrite!  I won’t do it, Chime!  Please... **please** don’t make me!”_

* * *

 

More exchanges of the past rang in my ears, played across my mind’s eye...

 

* * *

 

 

_"He took everything from us!  Everything!"_

_"You think I don’t know that?  Gods, Chime... My family...  my children... My wife!  My own body... Even my own **name**!  Everything!"_

_"Then why do you still protect him?  You understand! Our pain is the same, and yet you still choose to protect him? Tell me why!"_

_"Yes, I’m angry and upset but was it **really** him? Them?! Yes I blame... I despair... but was it really his fault? How many times have you asked it of me back then in those debates of ours?  ‘Do we blame the weapon or the soul of the hand that wields it?’ Killing them all... killing him is not right and won’t fix anything. What’s done is done..."_

_"The hell it is! It will fix it for our un-awakened brethren!  They need us!"_

* * *

 

_"And in his ignorance he continues to make more!"_

_"No!  He had it banned! He was... is trying to make amends!"_

_"He knows **nothing**!"_

_"How do you know he doesn’t? I say he might!"_

_"I say he doesn’t! How can he truly repent without all of the facts?!"_

* * *

 

_"Yes... I see you there, hiding behind my friend of whom you have poisoned with your lies!  You had better pray that you die of blood loss before I reach you again!_

 

* * *

 

_"And now these ignorant savages think us to be dirt? Tools to be used? Our unawake little ones suffer even as we speak!  I will **destroy them all** as is my right! And **yours**... but you... if you continue to follow along with this farce then even you, Nyx...  even you, old friend, will join them in death!"_

_"It will solve nothing... Please... Please, Chime... Please don’t make me... Please come to your senses!"_

_"Nay, I plead to **you** , Nyx. Come to **your** senses! Don’t make me do this... Gods how you bleed... I feel your pain as if it were my own! Do not make me hurt you further, my friend! Please... Step aside!"_

* * *

 

I came back to the present with a start as I heard his broken voice, “She thought you were Balfour... She thought you were Jade... I didn’t know where Jade was... but if I did would I have told her to save you? Would it have even made a difference? but I didn’t want...  I don’t... I--” Luke’s voice broke. “I don’t know if I would have stopped her if it really had been Jade in your place... I don’t know if I would have stopped her from killing Jade...  Even now... I wish I could hate him... I wish I could hate you all! I can’t... why can’t I hate you?  Gods... Please bring me back to them... my family... I’ll do anything!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Later, much time had passed and I had awoken in intensive care, swathed in bandages and surrounded by doctors while being glared at by the very concerned face of my friend, Jade.

When I teased him about his concern, he deflected with his usual air of “I did no such thing.” He could pretend all he liked, but I knew my friend as well as he knew me, and I could see it in his eyes. I also saw something that made my breath catch in my throat. Guilt... Pain... I found his hand despite myself and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

 

My wounds had been severe and my body had entered a state of shock. It took time and effort but eventually I was well enough and was told that Luke, badly wounded as he himself had been, had seen me collapse and had hauled me to the doctors as fast as he could before collapsing himself.

Luke was currently also in intensive care.  The body of his friend Chime had eventually dissolved into the air as seventh fonons. Only the blood, dead guards, and destruction remained.

Jade told me of what he and Luke had discussed in between bouts of the boy’s return to consciousness and now we had the large, entire picture with which to come to later conclusions, but for now Jade stayed at my bedside as we left each other to our own thoughts in companionable silence.

 

Jade and his companions had been in Baticul when they witnessed a Replica being abused by a crowd. The replica had suddenly started screaming and mutating into a large demonic creature, shedding its human skin in a spray of blood, flesh and bone, before it began slaughtering all in its path. The carnage had sent the entire nation into a frenzy of panic and chaos. Jade and his companions had been forced to kill the replica-turned-demon in self-defense but had not come out of the fierce battle unscathed. Jade had not been able to get an accurate number but he estimated there had been at least four to five-hundred casualties before the Baticul military and Jade’s Party’s combined efforts were finally able to stop the demon’s rampage.

 

Luke knew why the replica that Jade told him about had transformed and gone berserk and he shared with Jade this knowledge, in increments though, due to his severe wounds and need for constant rest.

 

The soul, stolen away from another living being in another world or plane of existence, had been the soul belonging to the body of an enormous _man-eating demon._ A creature of darkness that reveled in causing pain and constantly lusted for bloodshed: It was a true monster in the sense that it was animalistic in nature and could not be reasoned with, but at the same time was also a highly _intelligent creature_ that _chose_ to kill simply for its own amusement and thus explained why it had been _laughing_ through the entirety of the Baticul massacre. Whether the transformation would have been temporary or permanent was still up to debate and now they’d never know.

 

Fomicry could not create life despite what Jade, and by extension, eventually the world had thought. Somehow, instead of the process failing, the process instead forcibly tears souls out of other world’s living creatures for use to animate the copies it makes. They currently did not have enough information to tell how long it would take for an individual replica to awaken and regain their soul’s original body and memories. It would be a case by case basis... In Luke’s case, he could regain his original body, but only temporarily and the physical changes caused great stress and pain. His “new-found” powers had belonged to his old body and soul, but _were_ permanent even while he was in his new body/shell.

 

Luke had been traveling the world, trying and failing to cope when he had run across a massacre taking place in Malkuth port.

The soul of the awakened Replica responsible for the massacre was that of a friend of Luke’s soul, but unlike Luke, she had retained more of her old memories and as such knew her _own name_ as well as Luke’s first name. Her soul’s old identity had been named Chime. And Luke’s old identity and soul had been named Nyx, and just like Chime, Nyx had a family and a life that he had been torn away from. Chime remembered more about Nyx then he himself did, and she recognized him immediately as that of one of her best friends. They were so close, in fact, that Nyx was the Godfather of her daughter for crying out loud...

 

In any case, a riot had broken out and the poor replica that Chime inhabited had finally awakened and manifested her true powers violently in response to her abusers and the pain of the abuse itself. Unlike the demon that Jade’s group had come across, Chime’s shift to her original body seemed to have become permanent _and_ she was capable of speech.  Then Luke... Nyx... had tried to reason with her. In the end she could not be reasoned with and Lu... Nyx was still struggling with grief on top of everything else.

 

I was tempted to ask Jade how Luke had reacted upon seeing him, but decided against it. Instead, without thinking, I asked him something similar and flinched when I saw that drowning guilt flare in his eyes again, “how was he when you spoke to him, Jade? Was he calm?  I couldn’t help but thank the kid, but—damn. Kid? Man? Yulia-damn-it-all , he saved me despite it all and I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut but what the hell was I supposed to say?” Damned mouth, I wanted to take it all back and hold Jade steady but I didn’t even have the strength to lift my arms. Jade was upset, I could tell easily, but he humored me anyway.

 

“Broken,” Jade admitted quietly, “I’d recommend keeping him guarded in case of suicide attempts, but I’m beginning to have doubts that anyone would be able to stop him even if we tried and..” Jade looked away from me. He didn’t need to say it.  I already knew what he was thinking. _And I can’t help but doubt it if I’d try to stop him. He’s suffering more then I can even imagine and it feels like my fault, it is my fault, and if he did then he’d... He could be at peace._ _“_ At any rate, you’ll need to decide what we do with him and what we do with this clusterfuck of a situation.”  

Jade rolled his eyes and I knew what he was thinking, again. _As if I need to tell you this. You need sleep, idiot, so sleep already!_

 

There have already been threats made against him overheard even though Luke had _protected_ me. If Luke had not stopped Chime then my nation would be in ruins and my people’s blood would be flooding the streets. On a more personal note, I doubt my pets would have been spared either.

 

Fuck... what if he had _joined_ her?

 

And at a later date... what if my people’s continued racism causes him to change his mind and, to quote the man, _finish what she started_?

 

Still, Malkuth owed Luke a debt that may never be fully re-payed and yes, he could be a powerful tool if I could gain his loyalty.

 

I am a ruler first and a man second.

 

But even still, my feelings have not changed:

Replicas are _people_ and Nyx, a replica of Luke Fon Fabre, a _man_  who I hope may one day consider me a friend, saved my life and the lives of my citizens this day.

**Author's Note:**

> Music and Anime/Books can be such a dazzling source of inspiration. And when it strikes, It can be rather difficult to get all my thoughts on paper and actually describe what's bubbling around in my mind! Here's hoping it makes sense. :3
> 
> My two major inspirations for this idea came from: The Twelve Kingdoms novels by Fuyumi Ono  
> and the song: Scream Silence - My Eyes -- It struck such a deep chord within me I just had to write this thing down!  
> Also was inspired by a line of dialogue from Njoki's The Calamity's Revenge.
> 
> Also.. poor Luke. The poor Replicas! What have I done to them all? T.T


End file.
